Caged
by bridgesburned
Summary: When Kurt returns to McKinley, why is he the only one that doesn't know about the new and improved Dave Karofsky? AU after Furt.
1. Chapter One

Kurt had been at Dalton three months and thirteen days when Blaine mentioned it the first time. Yes, Wes had mentioned it before, but Kurt had been feeling small and didn't take him seriously. But when Blaine said it, it was different. It was real. He no longer felt small. He felt huge; too big for the tiny cage he was trapped in.

"When we're on that council, the Warblers will be awesome. Wes would never let us now, but I'd like to try one of those mashups you were telling me about. And we'll do showtunes," he insisted fervently.

"The Warblers could never do showtunes in eight part harmony," Kurt grumbled to himself. Blaine rolled his eyes at the comment.

"Sure we could! Our choices would be limited, but if we split up the parts enough, we could do it with a featured soloist."

Something snapped in Kurt. His blood boiled under his skin and he glared at Blaine.

"A school like this shouldn't be allowed to do showtunes. This school impedes creativity and self expression! There is no room to be a diva is your goddamn hallowed halls!" he told Blaine, trying to keep his voice down.

"Kurt, I thought you understood. Dalton isn't about standing out, it's about blending in," Blaine reminded him. Tears started to form in the soprano's eyes.

"I can't believe I was ever okay with that," Kurt said quietly, his voice on the brink of breaking the entire time. He picked up his bag and left the commons. He went up to his dorm, and as soon as he closed the door behind himself and saw his roommate was gone, he broke down into sobs, sitting on his bed. He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed his father. Trying his hardest to tone down his cries, he spoke.

"Dad?" he said, obviously miserable.

"Kurt, what's wrong? Did something happen?" his father questioned, worry clear in his voice. Kurt let out a string of wails, covering his mouth in attempt to muffle them. Burt's heart broke at the sound.

"I hate it here," Kurt said, forcibly calming himself down to talk. "I wanna come home. Please, please let me come home." His sobs picked up again, and he listened as his father shushed him comfortingly.

"I'm coming to get you. Have your stuff packed when I get there, okay?" his father told him softly, trying to subside his son's tears. "I'll be there in two hours tops. See you then, Buddy."

Kurt said goodbye and pulled his suitcases out from under his bed. With a mixture of anger, frustration, and eagerness, he threw his clothes into the larger suitcase and his few belongings in a smaller suitcase. This wasn't the first time he had cried from wanting to leave so badly. But this was the breaking point.

He cleaned up the small space, doing menial tasks until his father arrived. By the time Burt called to say he was outside, his side of the room looked like nobody had ever inhabited it.

Kurt loaded his suitcases into the truck and got in the front. His eyes were still puffy, and his face was littered with blotches of red, but he had calmed down significantly.

"Hey Kurt," his dad greeted him, putting a rough hand on his shoulder. Kurt gave him a weak, relieved smile. "You gonna be okay, kid?"

"I never thought I would say this, but I'll be fine once I'm back in Lima," he said. Burt chuckled and pulled out of Dalton, heading back to Lima.

When they got home, it was already ten. Finn and Carole were on the couch, watching the credits roll by on the TV, both of them half asleep. Kurt laughed inwardly and went down to his basement. It still looked the same as when he left. Probably because he came and cleaned it most weekends, but still. It felt like Kurt hadn't been there in months. As soon as he laid down in bed, he fell asleep.

He was woken up by the angry scream of his generic ringtone sounding through the room. He looked around for signs of Finn, but found none. He had fallen asleep on the couch.

"Hello?" Kurt answered. He turned on his lamp and looked at the clock. It was ten in the morning.

"What the hell, Kurt," Blaine said, furious as Kurt had ever heard him. "I go to bring you coffee and your room is empty. All your stuff is gone. I go to Dean Morgan; he says you've already faxed over your withdrawal papers. Said your father called and claimed you had had a family crisis and had to move back home. I'm calling your bluff, Kurt. You're running away from your problems again!"

Kurt smiled. His father must've faxed over the papers. He would have to thank him with pancakes for dinner.

As Blaine's words registered with Kurt, he scoffed. "Oh please, Blaine. I'm facing my problems. Lima is the home of my problems. I ran to you to escape them. That was a mistake. Now, if you don't mind, I have to start my skin care routine."

With that, Kurt hung up the phone and got out of bed. He walked upstairs in his pajamas and was met by Carole's arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Oh, Kurt, honey!" Carole said, pulling back from her hug and beaming at Kurt. He returned the smile as she her hands on his shoulders and spoke again. "I'm so glad you're home, sweetie. Just wasn't the same without you." She hugged him again, very quickly, and put on a pair of earrings. "I have to run some errands; I'll be gone for a few hours. There's pizza in the fridge!" she said as she grabbed her purse and went out the front door.

Kurt shrugged to himself and walked over to the fridge, opening the large metallic door. He found a few slices of pizza in a baggie and took one out, studying it.

"Oh, who the hell cares?" he asked himself before biting into it. It wasn't gourmet cuisine, but it would do.

He walked around the house for a while, slowly eating his pizza as he explored the familiar grounds. At noon, he was consumed by boredom and went back to his room to shower and get dressed.

Two hours later, Kurt Hummel finally felt like himself. Dressed in his favorite Alexander McQueen, rest his soul, and hair styled perfectly, he went out to visit Lima once again.

Or at least he was going to, but his phone rang and he was forced out of his oblivion.

"Kurt, hey, can you take your registration papers to McKinley for me?" his father asked through the phone.

Kurt's perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed. "What?" he asked in disbelief.

"I forgot to grab 'em before I left," Burt explained.

"But I just got home last night!" Kurt complained. Burt huffed into the phone.

"No buts. If you're coming back, I want you in school tomorrow. No point in bein' lazy, Kurt. Got it?" Burt said firmly, not a question.

"Yes, I got it," Kurt affirmed anyway. "I'll bring them over now. Bye, dad."

He walked back to the kitchen and saw the offending papers on the counter. He grabbed them and his keys, and headed to McKinley.

He waited in the Navigator for the teenaged population of Lima to be released from their prison, and was quickly met by a loud bell and a frantic stream of people exiting the school. He waited a few more minutes, considering staying in the car until he knew the Neanderthals were at football practice, but thought it no use. He was in Lima to face his problems, not hide from them. And by them, he meant Karofsky. So, instead, he texted Mercedes.

_you won't believe where I am_, Kurt sent. After just a few seconds, he got a reply.

_can't talk, boo. glee's starting_, the text said.

An idea popped into Kurt's head. He smiled to himself and put his phone into his pocket as he opened the door and stepped out. He grasped the registration papers in his hands and took a deep breath as he walked into the huge building. He dropped off the papers at the counselor's office and followed the familiar path to the choir room.

He peeked inside, trying to be stealthy, and saw Mr. Schue gesturing toward the whiteboard. He couldn't tell what was written, but he saw Tina and Mercedes look toward each other and roll their eyes. The rest of the group seemed to be groaning. Now was a good a time as any to make an entrance. Kurt passed through the ever open door and heard a shriek.

"Spy!" Rachel yelled, pointing to the boy. He smiled widely as Mercedes ran up to him and tackled him to the floor, hardly caring that it was cold and hard, and would probably cover his favorite shirt in a layer of dust. He was with his best friend again.

"Cedes, honey, not that I don't enjoy being thrown to the floor and crushed, but I really would like to get up now," Kurt said, out of breath as he laughed with the other diva and got to his feet.

"Baby, you know it's all my sexy that's crushing you," Mercedes said, sassy as ever. They wiggled their fingers together and moved their hair, their signature handshake.

By now, everybody in glee was out of their chairs and starting to gather around Kurt. They took turns enveloping him in tight hugs and patting him on the back. As people filed back to their seats, Will smiled and walked toward Kurt.

"Kurt! It's great to see you. Would you like to join us for glee today? Or is that considered treason in the Warblers?" the teacher asked jokingly. A small rumble of laughter came from the rest of the club. Kurt smiled.

"Oh, definitely. But, thankfully, I don't have to worry about that anymore," he said happily. "I no longer attend Dalton Academy."

New Directions collectively gawked at him in silence, until Mercedes' voice boomed from the front row.

"Oh, _hell_ to the no! White boy, you got some explaining to do," she said loudly.

"I'm officially back at McKinley. I left to escape my problems and that was the wrong thing to do. So I'm here to face my tormentors. Plus, I really, _really_ missed you guys," Kurt explained.

"Well, then," Shuester started. "Welcome back, Kurt!" He motioned for Kurt to sit in his old spot by Mercedes in the front, far left. Kurt beamed and took his seat. His fellow glee clubbers hooted and hollered for him for just a moment, before Schue quieted them.

"It's great that Kurt's back, but we still have our assignment! Guys will be singing songs by female artists; girls will be singing songs by male artists. Alright? Now if-" Will said, walking back over to the whiteboard. He was cut off by a tall, broad shouldered figure rushing into the room and taking a seat on the far right, in the middle row of seats.

"Sorry I'm so late," the boy said, masculine as all get out. Will turned around and faced him.

"It's fine, Dave. But since you're so late, I'm gonna have you demonstrate the assignment for the week."

Dave? Kurt's eyes strained to focus on the squirming person as Finn clapped the mysterious boy on the back. Dave.

"Karofsky?" Kurt said, louder than he meant to. The aforementioned fixed his eyes on Kurt and they widened. After a moment of complete shock, a new look flooded Karofsky's eyes. Kurt didn't recognize it in the slightest. It wasn't fear, or intimidation, or hatred, and it wasn't evil. It wasn't menacing at all. It was surprise and uncertainty, which faded into surprise and joy.

Dave ignored Kurt and paid attention to Will again.

"And what's the assignment?" he asked, almost challenging.

"Guys are singing girl's songs and girls are singing guy's songs," Shue said, almost challenging back.

Dave looked deep in thought for a moment, then smiled and jumped up. He nodded as he walked past the glee advisor and was soon whispering to the guitarist of their faithful jazz band. He eyed Dave oddly and shrugged, then spoke to the rest of the players. Dave walked to the center of the room with a huge grin still plastered on his face, and Will walked over to his chair by the piano and sat down.

The band started up with a crash of the drums, quickly followed by a string of chords from the guitar. It took Kurt a few seconds to recognize the song, he was so in shock.

Karofsky was in glee club. Dave Karofsky was in _glee_ club. Had Kurt been thrust into the Twilight Zone? Was he being Punk'd? No, he wasn't famous yet. He tried to ignore the confusing fact that the bully had invaded his club and focused on the performance. Karofsky's ineptitude would make him feel better.

Two words had left Dave's lips when Kurt realized what he was singing. He stared intently at the larger boy, who stared right back as he sang.

"_No sir, well I don't wanna be the blame, not anymore.__  
><em>_It's your turn, so take a seat we're settling the final score_."

Kurt studied the boy and took the lyrics at face value. He did enjoy settling things through song… 'But not with Karofsky', he reminded himself.

"_You have made it harder just to go on__  
><em>_And why, all the possibilities__  
><em>_Well I was wrong_."

Dave turned his head to Kurt at just the right moments, looking at him only when the words he sang were true enough to tell. At 'I was wrong', a look of sheer sincerity crossed Dave's face. Kurt's betraying heart skipped a beat.

As Dave melted into the chorus, Kurt looked him up and down. He allowed his mind to wander to the positives of Karofsky's appearance, comparing it to that of the former Karofsky.

He looked good. He had traded his letterman and polo for a t-shirt and open button-up. His jeans didn't have any unnecessary holes and they fit him well. The outfit in general was Kurt approved, and definitely a step up from three months before. It also looked like in those three months, Dave had lost a good fifteen pounds, resulting in a slimmer face and a flatter torso. To say the least, yes, he looked good.

Gazing eyes soon distracted Kurt from his thoughts and guided him back to the lyrics.

"_I wonder, how am I supposed to feel when you're not here.__  
><em>_Cause I burned every bridge I ever built when you were here.__  
><em>_I still try holding on to silly things, I never learn_."

'When I'm not here… When I was at Dalton?' Kurt thought to himself. He shook himself of the thought. 'No! Dave Karofsky is not effectively portraying emotion and message through song. I refuse to believe so… I wonder if he really burned any bridges when I left. Obviously, since he's in glee club of all places.'

"_If I ever start to think straight,__  
><em>_This heart will start a riot in me,__  
><em>_Let's start, start, hey!__"_

Kurt found himself smiling as he and the girls joined in for the group "_that's what you get when you let your heart win._" He rolled his eyes with a grin and paid great attention to the rest of Dave's performance. He was incredibly disappointed when reality hit him with the fact that the Neanderthal was good. In fact, he was great, and it really kind of angered Kurt. Dave wasn't Kurt-great, but he was just as good as Finn. And it seemed as if Dave knew this. The new look in Dave's eyes was confidence.

The music faded and Dave sat back down in his plastic chair. Kurt looked over to him and tried his best to glare, but according to the smirk on Karofsky's face, it was to no avail.

The rest of glee passed quickly. After the initial shock of Kurt's arrival and Dave's song wore off, the guys and girls separated as they usually did. Kurt decided to join the girls in conversation. They talked about song choices for a while, but soon digressed into a discussion about something frivolous and wonderful. At least, it did where Kurt was involved, with the girls. Over with the guys, the talk was more serious.

"Dude, what are you gonna do?" Puck asked Dave, who was sitting in the middle of the group, trying not to stare at Kurt.

"Man, I have no idea," Karofsky replied, head hanging and a hand on his temples.

"You gotta tell him," Finn said abruptly. All the guys looked at him. "When you told us you were in love with Kurt, we let you in glee without making things right with him. You promised you would when you got the chance. This is your chance, Karofsky, come on."

Dave sighed and nodded. He had been dreading this since he joined the club. He was allowed in on several conditions. Apologizing to Kurt was the main condition.

"I wouldn't even know what to say," Dave insisted, a lame excuse. He knew exactly what he would say. He knew exactly what he would do. But he was scared. He needed something, someone, to make him brave. He needed courage.

He lifted his head to look to the other guys for help. He made the mistake of looking up and letting his eyes drift to the girls, where Kurt was sitting. The fashionista was laughing uncontrollably, his mouth open in a huge smile. Kurt's eyes met Dave's and when his smile didn't falter, Dave smiled back. He had his courage. He stood up and kept eye contact with the other boy, nodding his head over to a spot closer to the door. Kurt gave him a confused look but got out of his seat and followed the boy away from the chatter of the club. The boys had started idly talking about football and the girls were invested in a heavy debate about spring trends.

Kurt stood before Dave, arms folded across his chest. A defiant look played on his more delicate features as he spoke. "Karofsky," he said simply.

"Look, Hu-Kurt. I want to apologize. But not here. Come to lunch with me tomorrow. We can go off campus, somewhere that doesn't smell like feet," Dave suggested, his face serious.

"What makes you think I would do that?" Kurt questioned, one foot turning instinctually to be diagonal to the other. His stance was pure challenge.

"Because, you're not stupid. You're clever and bright, and you know that something's different about me and you're dying to know what and why," Dave retorted. Kurt huffed out a breath. How was he supposed to say no to a boy who says things like that? He was supposed to hate Karofsky, right?

"I wouldn't say dying to know. But fine, I will indulge you with an audience to whatever the heck you're wanting to say," Kurt replied. Dave smiled.

The noise from a shoe scuffing the floor distracted Kurt from the bright and crooked smile plastered on his (former?) tormentor's face. Kurt found himself with the urge to smile back, using all his willpower to fight that urge. He turned around to face the girls, who were three or four feet closer to the pair, apparently trying to listen in.

Kurt rolled his eyes and started toward the girls, sitting amongst them once again.

"Boy, if you hold anything back, I swear," Mercedes trailed off, shooting daggers at Kurt to let him know of his possible impending future. Despite Mercedes warning, Kurt let a smile slip and spread across his features.

"It's nothing, Cedes. Really, he's just going to apologize over lunch tomorrow. I have bigger issues right now, for example, plotting my comeback outfit," the fashionista said confidently. His eyes wandered to the other group, settling on Dave, who was being clapped on the back by Finn and pounding fists with Puck. He would wonder what they were congratulating him on later. Right now, he wanted to plan a truly perfect ensemble of couture.

He discussed pattern mixing and contrasting versus clashing colors with the glee girls for another forty five minutes before Schue announced that it was time for everybody to head out. Kurt hugged Tina and Mercedes, his fashion confidantes, and started out the choir room door.

As the New Directions filed out, Kurt's eyes betrayed him, following the movements of the newest member as he exited. Dave's eyes caught his and he smiled at the shorter boy. Though Kurt still expected the malicious smirk of a Neanderthal, he was met with a genuine look of not only happiness, but something like adoration. Kurt found himself smiling back at Dave Karofsky.

The hours passed quickly after glee club was dismissed. Kurt drove home and found Carole in the kitchen. He helped her cook their dinner and when his dad came home, had a family meal with the people he missed most. After dinner, he went down to his basement bedroom and spread out various outfit options on his bed. He spent hours creating a masterpiece; if there was anything to be proud of in his short life, he was sure it would be this arrangement of attire.

Kurt placed his clothes on the desk by his bed and lifted the covers, climbing in. He laid there for several minutes, thinking about everything that had happened that day; how surprisingly well everything had turned out. He fell asleep with the goofy grin that had graced his features the entire night.


	2. Chapter Two

"_Good morning, Lima, Ohio! It is 6 o'clock on this beautiful morning, and it looks like it's_-" Kurt turned off his alarm clock before the radio could say anything further. He yawned loudly and stretched his arms and neck. He swung his legs over the bed and stood up on shaky knees. He hadn't slept this well is weeks. He smiled at his renewed feeling and walked over to his bathroom. He plugged his iPod into its speakers and walked over to the shower, turning on the water and letting its temperature rise. He stripped and stepped in, smiling as his iPod played a Lady Gaga song.

"_And I know that it's complicated_

_But I'm a loser in love_

_So baby, raise a glass to mend_

_All the broken hearts_

_Of all my wrecked up friends_

_I'll never talk again_

_Oh boy, you've left me speechless_

_You've left me speechless, so speechless_," Kurt sang brilliantly, lathering his hair in his expensive shampoo. He finished up several minutes later and walked back into his room, dry and clad only in his fluffy white robe. He looked over his outfit one more time before putting it on, reveling in the feeling of complete freedom that wearing street clothes brought to him. He toweled off his wet hair and went upstairs for breakfast before fixing it.

"Good morning, family," he announced to his dad, Carole, and Finn, who were all sitting at the table, eating breakfast. Kurt popped two pieces of bread into the toaster and made himself a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Kurt," Carole said sweetly, smiling at him. "You excited for your first day back?"

Kurt grinned into his mug as he sipped the coffee. "God, yes. I hated those uniforms. It's never felt this good to actually be able to choose what I wear." He grabbed his toast as it jumped out of the toaster and put it on a plate to butter.

They ate their breakfast in a happy chitter-chatter, something Kurt was looking forward to getting used to. When he finished up, he went back downstairs and finished his hair. He looked at his skin in the mirror, and upon decided it was a bit unevenly colored, patted on some powder foundation. He smiled at his reflection – he looked like the best version of himself. He looked at his phone as the clock on it switched to 7:45. Grabbing his school bag and hurrying up the steps, Kurt felt butterflies rise up in his stomach. It felt like the first day of school all over again. He supposed it was – his third first day of his junior year. He was out the door and in his car, on his way to school, in no time.

Entering the school was surprisingly easy. Though Kurt could taste the bile rising in his throat, he held his head high and practically strutted through the red double doors that led to hell. At least he could wear Marc Jacobs and fight for solos in this hell. He smiled at the thought of his favorite Marc Jacobs jacket and walked to his locker.

"Do you know how badly I missed you while you were at rich boy school?" Mercedes asked casually as Kurt took his binder and notebooks out of his bag and put the empty bag against the metal walls. He shut the locker and smiled, walking with Mercedes as they headed on their way to home room.

"I think I do, Cedes. Seeing guys in uniforms loses its appeal after a couple of weeks, not to mention months. It's so nice to be around girls again," Kurt said with a huge smile. Mercedes laughed and leaned against him as they walked into the classroom.

The four hours that separated home room from lunch were less than exciting. Kurt felt the looks of his peers on him, but he couldn't decide if they were hateful or just interested. It didn't take much for the teenagers of Lima to get interested. But nobody whispered anything hurtful, or anything at all, and his favorite outfit remained slushie free. The only thing that was even remotely exciting was Kurt's fourth period Biology class.

Kurt took an open seat in the back of the classroom. He wasn't really interested in anything their teacher had to say – he was about two months ahead of the public education system, academically. As the class started to take notes, Kurt found himself spacing out. He took to looking around the room, trying to familiarize himself again. He caught sight of a taxidermied snowy owl in one of the supply cabinets and frowned. It was such a beautiful creature, and to see it positioned behind glass saddened him. Soon, he found himself enthralled in the patterns and markings on its wings. The smooth texture of the feathers created an image in his head of a sleek white dress with a fluffy shrug, all inspired by the owl. He started to sketch the garments on the bottom of his forgotten notes when a figure opened the door with one hand, coffee in the other, and walked up to the teacher.

"Your coffee, Ms. McFarlane," Dave said, handing it too her. She smiled sweetly and took it, sipping slowly before going back to her lecture. Dave walked to the back of the room, farther back than even Kurt. He took a seat in a lone desk by the teacher's desk. The isolated desk was topped with what looked like tests, and on top of the tests rested a pink highlighter. Dave sat in the seat of the desk and grasped the marker. He started looking over the tests – Kurt was sure they were tests now, and from the looks of how colorful they were, his classmates were seriously struggling with what they were learning – and didn't notice Kurt for a good fifteen minutes. Dave was eventually overcome by the feeling of being watched, so he glanced up from his spot in the teacher assistant's desk. His hazel eyes met with bright blue, and he smiled. He mouthed something, but Kurt couldn't make it out. Kurt mouthed back, 'I can't read lips', gesturing to his own lips and shrugging slightly. Dave nodded and went into his backpack, pulling out a piece of lightly crumpled scrap paper. He wrote on it, then folded it quickly and threw it onto Kurt's desk. The smaller boy was almost impressed at the precision of the throw. He unfolded the note quietly, reading the two words in bright pink highlighter.

Welcome back.

Kurt smiled to himself. He folded the note again and pocketed it. As if on cue, the bell rang loudly and Kurt put his sketched-on notes into his binder. He stood and looked to leave, but Dave walked up to him and put a hand on Kurt's shoulder for a moment.

"We still going to lunch?" he asked. There was something in his voice. It was surprisingly, to Kurt at least, not threatening or hurtful, but hopeful. Keeping his posture impeccable and face straight, Kurt responded.

"I'm a man of my word, so yes. I trust you're smart enough to at least avoid fast-food joints in your choice of lunchtime dining?" he asked, partly seriously. Dave laughed aloud, shaking his head. He started out the door, Kurt following him.

"I figured you watched what you ate, looking as good as you do. I thought we could go to this sub shop on Main and Sheridan. They've got stuff you can eat, I'm sure."

Kurt's eyes widened for a moment before he gathered his composure and continued to walk the hall toward the exit.

"Are you trying to win my affection with compliments, Karofsky?" Kurt asked, poker face as dramatic as ever. Dave, in return, smiled sweetly. He opened the huge school door and let Kurt pass before entering the outside himself. Kurt hoped the blush on his cheeks would fade before Karofsky could notice.

"Is it working?" Dave inquired. He led them through the parking lot and opened the passenger's side door of an old Ford Ranger. He waited for Kurt to get in, then shut it behind the other boy. He got in the driver's side and buckled himself in. He turned the key in the truck's ignition and listened to it roar to life. He carefully maneuvered it out of the parking lot and into the street.

"So, how has your first day back been?" Dave asked with a tone that showed genuine curiosity. Kurt thought for a moment, not knowing how to respond. It was still weird, being friendly with Karofsky. But the taller boy played the role of flirty gentleman so well, how could Kurt be anything but friendly?

"It's been nice, I suppose. I've missed my friends more than anything. Well, maybe not more than choosing my own outfits. I hated those uniforms," Kurt said with a slight frown at the thought of navy blue blazers and deep red crests.

Though his mind told him to say something along the lines of "yeah, but I bet you looked especially hot in that uniform", Dave reminded himself that he couldn't get sloppy; that he was still trying to impress Kurt. 'And I probably will be for a very long time', he thought to himself as he smiled to the fashionista.

"I didn't know you were a TA," Kurt said, breaking the somewhat comfortable silence.

"Oh, yeah. I was Murdoch's TA last semester, but he, uh, didn't like having a homo for an assistant, so Ms. McFarlane let me be hers. She's way more awesome anyway. Gives me permission to steal teacher's coffee if I want it," Dave said, giving a faint smile at the last sentence. But his eyes were full of a hurtful memory, and Kurt could see it clearly.

Dave pulled into a parking space in front of a nearly empty Sam's Sub Shop. He quickly got out of the car and took wide strides around the hood, opening the door for Kurt. Kurt fought to hold in a smile, not wanting to show the way his heart flutter at the gentleman-like act. But when Dave held the door of the sandwich shop for Kurt, he couldn't help but smile as he passed through it.

They ordered their subs and fought over who would pay, with Dave insisting he should and Kurt demanding that they split the bill. Naturally, Kurt won. Soon, they were taking their sandwiches back to a table near the large window of the shop and sitting down.

"How did Murdoch know you were…" Kurt started, looking around the now completely empty restaurant.

"Gay? I guess he heard when I came out. I didn't ever tell him or anything," Dave said before biting into his sandwich. Kurt, who had just picked up his sandwich, placed it back on the tray. How had nobody told him that Dave Karofsky of all people had come out?

"You came out? Like, of the closet?" Kurt asked in disbelief. Dave smiled warmly, looking down at nothing in particular.

"Yeah, I did. Not really on purpose, but I haven't regretted it at all. It had been on my mind all the time, kinda driving me insane, you know? I…" Dave trailed off. He looked up at Kurt nervously before beginning again. "If I say something, do you promise not to freak out or like, get pissed at me?"

Kurt's eyes widened again, for just a moment. What was Karofsky going to say? 'Dear Gaga, if he tells me he loves me, I can't not freak,' Kurt thought to himself. Taking a huge chance, he agreed.

"I couldn't handle that I was different, but you could. You were open and out and happy, and it made me even madder than I was. I was so mad, 'cause I couldn't avoid being gay anymore, after… that day in the locker room. And then you left, but you were still there; everywhere. It was like your absence was a constant reminder of just how afraid and pathetic I was. So I just… stopped. I stopped eating, I stopped going to class a lot of the time, I stopped talking to people… I just stopped living. But Finn talked to me one day after practice and I just, I just told him I was gay. But somebody else heard and freaked out, calling me a fag and a cocksucker and whatever. But I was done denying, so I just kinda told them they were right. I'll just say that they were less than supportive about it," Dave said. He looked up from the spot on the table his eyes had been glue to. The small smile on Kurt's lips eased Dave's nervousness. He returned the smile and bit into his sandwich.

"I know it's not really my place, but I'm really proud of you, David," Kurt said before digging into his own sub. Dave looked over at him with a cocked eyebrow. He chewed and swallowed quickly.

"Did you just call me David?" he asked quizzically.

"Well, I figure if we're going to be friends, I should call you by your first name. And David is more aesthetically pleasing than Dave, thus me calling you David," Kurt reasoned. David looked down and smiled brightly. This was something he could definitely get used to.

They ate in a comfortable silence for several minutes, but the words gnawing at Dave's brain were threatening to be heard of their own accord, so he broke the silence.

"Kurt, I want to apologize," he started. Forgetting how to continue, he paused.

"That was the whole point of this, wasn't it?" Kurt reminded him. Dave nodded, remembering all the times he had thought about apologizing to his former victim.

"I am so sorry for all the things I did. The slushie facials, the locker checks, everything. Especially… especially that kiss," Dave said. Kurt looked down, frowning. "I attacked you and it was so wrong. I don't know how I can make up for it, but I swear I will. I was so confused and angry, and I'm so sorry I took that out on you. I don't expect you to anytime soon, but do you think you could forgive me someday?"

Dave looked at Kurt with hopeful eyes. When Kurt finally lifted his head, there was a look of understanding in his expression.

"Yeah, I think I could," the smaller boy admitted. Dave beamed at him for a moment before continuing the work on his lunch, with Kurt following suit. But while his mouth was full of bread and meat, the smaller boy wondered if David had forgotten that he had _threatened to kill him_. Maybe he was too ashamed to mention it yet, Kurt figured, letting it fall from his thoughts.

"So, what was fancy pants private school like?" Dave asked when his mouth wasn't full.

He and Kurt kept talking well after they were finished eating. Kurt told him about Dalton, and how it was academically challenging, but generally oppressive. Kurt asked about football, which eventually led to them talking about glee; specifically about how glee was a safe haven for anybody different. They would've talked a lot longer, but Kurt's eyes accidentally flitted to the clock in the shop, showing that lunch had ended forty five minutes earlier and fifth period would be starting in fifteen minutes.

"Oh my gosh," Kurt said, a bit louder than he meant to, interrupting Dave in the middle of his sentence. Dave looked at him strangely. "It's already one o'clock, I can't be skipping class."

Dave nodded in understanding. "I'll take you back, then," he said, gathering both his and Kurt's trashing and standing to throw it away. He strode to the door and opened it for Kurt, slightly disappointed when the effeminate boy got into Dave's truck before the owner could open its door. Dave got in after him, buckling up and pulling out of the parking lot. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Dave focusing on the road, and Kurt staring out the window. Breaking the silence, Dave let the words on his mind slip out into the air between them.

"So, do you think you would want to do this again sometime?" he asked, looking to Kurt for a moment before refocusing on the road.

"Go to lunch? Sure, I mean, any excuse to get off campus. And you're not torture to talk to," Kurt replied with a smile. He took to watching Dave drive. Having worked with cars his entire life, and with the ability of a proficient mechanic already, he loved a man who could handle the powerful machine well. There was a… possibility that his most persistent wet dream consisted of being fucked on the hood of a car in his dad's garage. He wasn't proud of that.

Dave kept his eyes on the road, but when Kurt had rid himself of those pesky pornographic thoughts, he could see that there was something wrong in those eyes. It wasn't until Dave spoke again, hands gripped tight on the steering wheel, that he understood what it was.

"Well, yes, but I meant more like dinner?" he said, rewording his previous question. He looked over to Kurt, but the countertenor's eyes were already burning a hole into the dashboard. After a terribly awkward moment, Kurt took a deep breath and looked back up at the reformed bully.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," he explained. "I mean, you seem great and you make it easy to forget about earlier this year, but I can't do that. I can't just forget about everything that happened, everything you did to me."

Dave looked back to the road, turning into the WMHS parking lot, defeat evident in his eyes.

"But we can be friends. We can go lunch and see what happens. I'm willing to give you a chance, but you have to earn forgiveness, you know?" Kurt said, leaning to try and look Dave in the eyes. They parked, but stayed in the car. Kurt brought a hand to Dave's face, moving it to face his own. "Come on, smile, you big oaf."

Dave gave Kurt his smile and rolled his eyes at the name. "Friends?" he asked hopefully.

"Friends," Kurt confirmed with a reassuring smile before opening the door of the truck and hopping out. He heard the bell going off in the school and rushed in, thanking whatever god there was that it meant dismissal from fourth period and not his tardiness to fifth.

"Boy, where you been?" Mercedes asked him as he settled next to her at their kitchen station in fifth period Home Ec. "I missed you at lunch, and Tina said you were gone in Biology."

Kurt was somewhat astounded that his absence was even noticed.

"I went to lunch with Karofsky. I told you guys I would," he reminded her. But when he failed to lifted his eyes to her, she gave him a familiar look that screamed 'there is something you're not telling me, and you're an idiot if you think I won't find out'. "He's really nice, okay. I didn't think we would talk for so long, but we did. It just kinda happened. Don't think about it too much."

"You're forgetting that I live vicariously through you, loverboy. Now tell me, did he hold the door open for you?" Mercedes asked with a sassy smile.

"Every single one," Kurt told her, smiling at how important and, damn it if he can't say it, loved the gesture had made him feel. "We're just friends, Cedes. You know I can't be more than friends with him."

"But why not, Kurt? Eventually you're gonna have to admit to yourself that the boy slaves over himself, just trying to be perfect for you. You were his wake up call. He's not a monster anymore," the diva insisted fervently.

The bell rang to start class, and their teacher captured their attention with immediate instructions. 'There was no messing around with his woman'. Kurt didn't know if he was talking about the teacher or his best friend when he thought that.

Kurt spent the rest of fifth hour baking a simple batch of strawberry cupcakes and debating with Mercedes on the sincerity of Dave Karofsky. Mercedes told him of times where he had taken slushies for them, and was always the face of chivalry. She confided in him about songs Karofsky had sung in glee club that were painfully obviously about the young countertenor. That sparked a picture of Dave singing for him in glee every week, like a real boyfriend would. Kurt's smile was soft and heartfelt, as he thought about having a real boyfriend, especially one as capable as Dave.

"One date couldn't hurt, right?" he asked Mercedes, whisking away at their pink batter.

**A/N: You guys are so great for reading and reviewing, seriously. I've never posted anything on FF before, so I was more than ecstatic to see such positive feedback. Thank you so much. I hope I didn't let you guys down.**

**I also wanted to tell everybody that I know my Dave is a bit out of character. But I think he could become this eventually, so I just sped up the process. :)**


	3. Chapter Three

The more Kurt thought about it, the less he actually wanted to do it. There was no fear of rejection in this consideration; it was obvious the other boy had a major thing for him. The only thing he questioned was himself. That night, right after his skin care routine, he sat at the mirror.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, you deserve somebody to love you. You deserve somebody to fawn over everything you wear and every song you sing. You deserve somebody to stick up for you and hold your hand in the hallway." He paused, staring into his own reflection's eyes. "Yeah, you deserve him," he affirmed. He nodded once and got into bed, silently trying to convince himself that the affirmation was true. With the message repeating in his head, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next day at school, he didn't see Dave. In fifth period, he sat on the kitchen station counter, mixing whatever Mercedes was making, and not paying attention.

"Kurt, are you really this upset that you haven't seen Karofsky?" she asked, taking the bowl of meringue he had been whipping ferociously. He frowned.

"I don't know. I spent all night convincing myself it was a good idea, but now I'm not so sure," Kurt said before rolling his eyes. "I mean, is it even healthy to be feeling this way for David Karofsky of all people?"

Mercedes smiled and laughed lightly, smoothing the meringue onto the top of a pie.

"It definitely wouldn't be, but he's so different now. Don't think about it too much," she said, mocking him about their earlier conversation. "And anyway, we'll see him in glee."

Kurt's eyes widened, along with his smile. He had completely forgotten about glee.

The bell rang as he and Mercedes washed the dishes they had used, and they walked out of the room arm-in-arm.

"Hey, faggot!" a booming voice shouted from the other end of the hall. Kurt rolled his eyes, but Mercedes looked back at whoever had yelled at them, anger in her eyes.

"Just ignore them, Cedes. They're not worth it," Kurt told her, still not looking back.

The sound of quickening footsteps and snickering pierced Kurt's ears and worry filled his thoughts. He was so not in the mood for a slushie or swirly right then. He held his head a little higher and kept walking, speeding up just a little. But as the footsteps got even closer, he knew his class was too far away to escape them. As the tardy bell rang, Mercedes swore and mentioned how many tardies she already had.

"Go to class, Cedes. If they bother me, I can handle it," Kurt told his best friend, just wanting to keep her out of the situation. She nodded quickly and ran to class, hoping she could sneak in before roll was called. When he couldn't see her anymore, Kurt remembered why he had left McKinley in the first place.

"Fairy, we're talking to you," came another voice. He recognized this voice immediately as Azimio. The dark footballer shoved Kurt back, and he saw the two bullies. He recognized them from the football team, but out of the two, he only knew Azimio. He arched an eyebrow, but figured it would just bring more pain and brought it down again.

"Does the little fag feel brave now that his butt buddy Karofsky isn't gonna hurt him?" the other players, a tanned boy that Kurt had never even spoken to, said, mockingly high pitched with his hands gesturing in mock fear. He leveled out to his full height, clearly not joking anymore. "Well, you shouldn't. You're still not welcome here, homo."

With that, Azimio shoved Kurt hard, making him fly into a row of lockers. The heavy thud of a body crashing against metal sounded through the hall.

As Kurt regained control of his body, he sat back against the lockers, wondering if the football players would take pity on him and leave him to cry. He had no such luck, he realized, as his Azimio backed off and let the other boy come at Kurt and swiftly kicked him in side. The fashionista fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Again and again, he felt a hard shoe come in contact with his side, his arm, or his knee. He had long since closed his eyes, his senses left with only the sharp, biting pain of the kicks. A dull ache began to accompany that shooting pain, and he knew he would have bruises for weeks.

For a moment, Kurt thought he heard the steps of somebody running toward them, but heavy foot missed his shoulder and landed on jaw. The shoe skidded across his cheek, stopping just shy of his nose. He could feel the skin on across his cheekbone tear, and only then did he start crying. Through the pain of stray tear on the raw skin of his face, he heard his name being yelled, then a string of expletives and a struggle of some sort. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up, only managing to get in a position where he could rest of his elbow, half lying down. He focused his attention on the scene in front of him.

Lying on the floor, holding his nose and screaming, was the unknown jock that had attacked Kurt. Azimio was being knocked out of a brawl, his head falling back as his jaw was hit with an uppercut. Kurt's eyes strained to see his savior. The cerulean eyes were met with broad shoulders as Dave Karofsky rushed to his side.

"Kurt. Kurt, are you okay?" Dave asked. His eyes scanned over Kurt, watching as the blood rose to the surface of his cheek. "Do you think you can stand up? I'm gonna help you up, okay?"

Kurt nodded slowly and soon found strong hands under his arms, carefully lifting him to his feet. He stood solid for a few seconds before stumbling; Dave's arms were wrapped tightly around him, keeping him up. A harsh pang of pain shot through his knee and up his leg as he tried to walk.

"My knee is busted," Kurt said, leaning all of his weight on Karofsky and his good leg.

"You shouldn't walk on that," Dave insisted. He paused for a moment before looking at Kurt very seriously and lifting him up and into his arms. He started walking; now carrying Kurt bridal style to the nurse's office. Every couple of steps, Kurt would wince. The sound was a knife directly to his heart.

"You're gonna be okay, Kurt, I swear," he whispered to the pained boy as he carried them into the nurse's office.

"Oh my," the school nurse, a plump older woman with her gray hair in a bun, said with widened eyes. "Sweetie, what happened?" She rushed to Dave, leading him to a plastic bed and helping him level Kurt onto the paper that covered it.

"A couple of guys beat on him. Azimio and Young," Dave answered before Kurt could, sitting down in a chair that he'd pulled up to the side of the bed. He took Kurt's hand in his own, the slight contact making him blush. The nurse nodded and informed them she'd be right back. She hurried off, leaving Kurt and Dave alone. Dave looked into Kurt's eyes; the aquamarine hue was no longer clouded in that haunted look. Every so often, a pained expression would cross the countertenor's features, but there was a small smile playing across his lips.

"What?" Dave asked, finding the grin infectious.

"You saved me," Kurt replied, the smile growing just barely. He sounded tired, but not broken. Dave was amazed at how damn brave he was.

Looking down, Karofsky flipped Kurt's hand, resting it on top of his right and tracing the small boy's lifeline with his left index finger. He smiled wide and looked back up, locking eyes with Kurt.

"Maybe, but you saved me first," he said quietly, just loud enough for Kurt to hear. Before either of them could say anything further, the nurse and Principal Figgins walked in.

They talked for a long time, Figgins questioning both the boys on the attack. Soon after the Indian man left, two EMTs came in and took Kurt out on a stretcher.

"David needs to come with me. I need him to come with me," Kurt said almost frantically. The EMTs nodded, motioning Dave to follow them. They piled into the back of an ambulance and drove to the hospital. It wasn't as frightening as Dave thought it would be. They didn't blare the sirens, since Kurt wasn't in critical condition. The only frightening aspect of it was the impending doctor visit, where they would see just how badly Kurt was hurt.

One of the EMTs gave Kurt some morphine to dull the pain, and it did its job. Soon, Kurt felt the world slip, and his reality blurred. He remained conscious, but he felt like nothing matter. Except David, he thought to himself. David will always matter.

The rest of the day passed in a haze, quite literally for Kurt. The doctor took numerous x-rays and came to the conclusion that the attack had dislodged the countertenor's jaw and broken three of his ribs. He needed a total of fourteen stitches in three different places that had broken skin and then been hit again. His knee wasn't shattered, but he would need to keep it in a brace and walk with crutches for a couple weeks.

While the doctor explained all of this, Kurt just nodded. Everything felt surreal, and not just because of the painkiller. David sat beside him, nodding along and asking questions. The amount of worry that threaded through his voice filled an emptiness in Kurt. He had never felt so loved.

Burt, Carole, and Finn had showed up at the hospital after only an hour, but they proved little use. Dave was taking complete care of Kurt, amazed that the slender boy even let him. When Finn had rushed into the room, Dave and Kurt had been lying in the bed; Kurt under the covers and David over them. Kurt was smiling brightly, dark shadows still under his eyes, at David, who was laughing loudly. Finn's eyes widened, and he left them alone. Several minutes later, Burt and Carole left them in a similar situation. Kurt's dad made David promise to have him home soon after the doctor discharged him. They didn't have long, the doctor just wanted to see how his knee reacted to a few hours of rest, but Dave was glad to have any time alone with Kurt.

"I didn't see you at all today," Kurt said, surprising Dave.

"I was at the dentist during fifth. I thought I'd see you during glee," he told Kurt. He was going to continue, but Kurt's eyes widened.

"We're going to miss glee!" he exclaimed. His head fell back against the pillow. "I hate missing glee."

Dave couldn't help but laugh. "You're in the hospital, and you're worried about missing one practice?"

For a moment, Kurt thought about challenging David. The older boy obviously thought his priorities needed reevaluating. But he stopped himself, realizing that yes, he was in the hospital. It wouldn't be for very long, not even overnight, but he had been attacked and they had put him in the hospital. After a minute of being hit by reality, he remembered that it could've been a lot worse. Who knew what Azimio and Young would've done if Dave hadn't saved him.

Dave saw the solemn look in Kurt's eyes and took the smaller, almost dainty hand in his. He ran his thumb back and forth across the side of it. Softly, he spoke.

"I'm not gonna let this happen to you again, Kurt. I don't care if I have to take on the entire football team. I'm gonna keep you safe, I swear."

The promise reached through the singer's skin and planted itself in the deepest spot in his heart. Yeah, that would be in his thoughts for a long time. The feeling of being loved, being safe, rose in his chest again.

In one fluid motion, Kurt leaned in, pressed his lips to David's, and pulled back. He let his face hover close to Dave's, their noses almost touching.

"Thank you," he whispered with an infectious grin before slanting his mouth of David's again.

/

Dave lifted two stools and placed them in the center of the open space in front of the chairs their friends and teammates inhabited. He walked back to the chairs where he and Kurt sat, opening a small instrument case and pulling out a ukulele. He sat on one of the stools and motioned for Kurt to join him. Kurt smiled and grabbed a small, oval shaped object, rushing out of his plastic chair, a little too fast. He winced as he sat down and pain shot from his ribs to his brain. Dave leaned in and asked if he was okay, sincere concern on his face. Kurt nodded and smiled again. He carefully turned on his chair and faced the rest of the club.

"With everything that has happened," Kurt started, brushing the spot on his shirt that the bandages on his ribs laid under. "I like to think that I've kept optimistic. Not that it's been hard; with the bad came a lot of good." He shot Dave a smile. "I'm singing this for David."

Dave smiled brightly at Kurt. "I'm not good with words like Kurt is, so I just want to say that this is for him, and that I mean every word of it." With Kurt's opening notes, he strummed along.

"_You make me happy, whether you know it or not__  
><em>_We should be happy, that's what I said from the start__  
><em>_I am so happy__  
><em>_Knowin' you are the one that I want for the rest of my days__  
><em>_For the rest of my days, for all of my days," _Kurt sang, tapping his egg shaker to the rhythm of the song.

It felt good, not only to perform again, but to perform with David. If felt better than good. It felt amazing. He knew that no matter what happened, he would remember this as one of his crowning moments.

"_You're lookin' so cool, you're lookin' so fly__  
><em>_I can't deny that when I'm starin' you down and dead in the eye__  
><em>_I wanna try to be the person you want, the person you need__  
><em>_It's hard to conceive that somebody like you could be with someone like me," _David crooned.

He looked at Kurt, who glanced at him every so often as he kept the beat. Every note he played and every word he sang meant everything to him. Truer words had never been heard.

"_I'm happy knowin' that you are mine__  
><em>_The grass is greener on the other side__  
><em>_The more I think, the more I wish that we could lay here for hours and just reminisce__  
><em>_Ooh-ooh," _Kurt followed with the chorus.

A beaming smile spread across his face as he sang to Dave. He gave the performance his all, as he always did, but he wanted so badly to hear David sing again.

"_You're lookin' so fresh, it's catchin' my eye__  
><em>_Why, oh why did I not see this before__  
><em>_The boy I adore was right in front of me__  
><em>_And now I'll take a step back and look in your eye__  
><em>_And ask why it took so long to see we're meant to be," _Dave sang, winking at Kurt.

The rouge of a deep blush crept onto Kurt's cheeks. It was exciting to see what David did to him. Nobody had ever made him feel this way. He started the next chorus, but this time, Dave joined in with the bridge.

"_On the good, the bad, the ugly__  
><em>_The smiles, the laughs, the funny__  
><em>_Oh, the things we put each other through__  
><em>_It's for you, for you, for you," _they harmonized. Later, Kurt would obsess over how incredible they sounded together. As Kurt lifted his voice higher and higher, he smiled at Dave. He really was happy. And nobody had made him this happy in his entire life.

**A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing! This was almost painful to write. I hope you guys liked it, though:) This is the last chapter, but I've got some plans for another Kurtofsky story here shortly. And a special shout out to ****,**** cornflakesareglutenfree****, and ****the pink post-it!**


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